Deep rooted Beliefs
by Nokomiss
Summary: Petunia Dursley believes. She believes in the wrongness of magic. An exploration of her thoughts and memories on her sister and magic. *complete*


Deep-rooted Beliefs 

  


Disclaimer: Characters and situations belong to JKR.

  


***

  


Why did the sun shine?

  


There was a scientific explanation, of course. The sun was a big ball of burning gas that lit up this section of the universe. It's light hit earth from ninety-three million miles away, and lit up the darkest reaches of the surface of the planet while the alignment was correct.

  


But, that didn't explain anything. It didn't say where the big ball of burning gas came from, or how it stayed burning, or why the universe stayed still, or anything. It didn't tell why gravity existed and held everything firm in the earth's embrace. It didn't tell where any of it came from.

  


To know this one had to _believe_.

  


And Petunia believed. Oh yes, she did. 

  


She believed in the infinite wisdom of God. She believed in the words of the prophets. She believed in the words of the Bible. But all this was irreverant to the fact that she believed, with the whole of her very heart, that some things were _wrong._

  


It didn't matter what the words of the Lord said about any of the topics. She knew that in some cases, she was going against some of the fundamental rules in the Bible to uphold her belief in the wrongness of certain things.

  


For one thing, Petunia just knew it was a sin for the grocery store to put all those sweets near the register. Her Dudley had a very weak will, and the temptation of chocolate and sugar proved too much for him time and again. She could no longer remember how many times she had been forced to place a slobber-sticky lollypop in with her order because Dudley had tried sucking on it without removing the wrapper while she glanced at the latest headlines on the tabloids. 

  


It was the grocery store's fault, then, that her Dudley was now his current stature. He had grown addicted to the sugar they had placed in such an inconvenient place, and now her poor son was suffering all sorts of problems with pesky, intruding councilors and nurses. They all insisted that he was _overweight_. And while Petunia would be the first to admit that her son would be winning no fitness contests anytime soon, she was hesitant to actually say that he was _fat._ He could just be considered husky, right? And he hadn't yet grown out of his baby fat. There was still plenty of time for him to blossom into the man she knew he could be. 

  


He would be just like her Vernon. A strong, successful man with a loving family. That was her fondest wish for her only child, and, really, the only thing worth wishing on anyone. There was nothing more important to a man than his family, after all. 

  


Too bad her father hadn't bought into that logic.

  


Her father had also been a successful man, and he had been an honourable man also. 

  


However, his attitude towards his children had been deplorable. 

  


He had preferred her sister over her. Petunia had never understood why. Well, there were some reasons, she supposed, that had made Lily the favorite daughter. Lily had been pretty, much prettier than Petunia. Neither girl had possessed the vapid beauty of their mother, who spent most of her time smiling prettily and fixing her make-up. No, Lily had instead been the kind of intellectual pretty that drew boys like flies to honey.

  


Petunia, though she had been attractive enough, had not held a candle to her sister. The placement of her features, the style of her hair, the shape of her figure had never compared. Though she was older, she had always felt a little like a bad copy. Or, perhaps, like a rough draft. Something that had been improved upon to be later forgotten.

  


Lily had made good grades. Not perfect, by any means, but high enough that their mother had bragged to her friends about how well Lily did in school. Petunia had not done so well. She had been much more concerned with the popularity contests that constantly went on when more than ten girls were in a room together. Their mother had nothing to brag over about Petunia. 

  


When Lily first got a letter from _that place_, Petunia had been jealous. She had stomped around the house, seething in anger and resentment for weeks. Why did Lily get to suddenly be something out of every little girl's fantasy? Why did Lily get to be magical, and go away to a magical school, to learn _magic?_ Why not Petunia?

  


And so Petunia had glared angrily as they saw Lily off to that bizarre train past a solid brick wall in the train station. She wanted to get to go to the special school. But no, she was stuck still going to her plain all-girls school, where propriety was taught along with math, manners along with literature.

  


At Christmas, Lily came home. She was bubbling with stories about magic and spells and wondrous things. Petunia's resentment grew, until the point that she was happy to go back to her boring school, just to be away from her sister. She skimmed the letters that were sent to her by her parents, informing her of all the things Lily had accomplished before ripping them apart. 

  


Why hadn't it been her?

  


He jealousy had lasted until she was sixteen. It had been summer, and Lily had been talking cheerfully about the things she had learned in school. She had mentioned something about memory charms.

  


"Memory charms?" Petunia had been curious.

  


"Yeah," Lily said with a shrug. "The Ministry uses them on Muggles, sometimes, to make them forget about our world."

  


That had been the first affirmation that magic was used against Muggles. Petunia thought about that idle statement from her sweet little sister a lot. Those magical people could erase memories with the wave of a magical stick. They could undo lifetimes worth of pain and sorrow, happiness and joy. They held, in their hands, the powers of a god. 

  


The thought made Petunia a little nervous.

  


What if she were walking down the street, and accidentally saw a wizard doing a bit of magic? They wouldn't believe her if she said that she knew about their world, because that would be the first thing anyone would say. So they would erase her memory, and then she would be walking around with practically a hole in her head. 

  


What, precisely, gave these wizards the right to tamper with people's _minds_, the most intimate part of a person, like that? It was worse than rape, worse than murder. It was the single most violating thing she could think of that could happen to somebody. If even your memories weren't reliable, then what was?

  


Petunia shuddered. Imagine, a whole society of people wandering around, hiding themselves from honest folk like her, and altering memories of people who discovered them! It was terrible! Something straight out of one of those horror novels she avoided like the plague.

  


The next time Lily came home, Petunia paid close attention to the spells and charms that she blathered on about. She was shocked to realise that most of them could be used against people in terrible ways. One froze people, leaving them conscious but unable to move a muscle. That was a terrible thing to imagine. What if the spell was never removed? 

  


Petunia thought quite suddenly of a movie she had once seen, where a soldier was left deaf, blind, mute, and with no arms or legs. It had been terrible, and she imagined people under this terrible curse felt similar to the soldier. If you were unable to move, then you would be unable to communicate in any way. They would be able to hear, that was one thing over the soldier, but in all other ways they would be a complete cripple.

  


What if a particularly sadistic wizard used the spell against someone? They could keep them like that for days, months, years, and no one would be any the wiser. If there was one thing that she had figured out about the magical world from her sister's rambling, it was that the actions of wizards weren't nearly watched closely enough. Just one little department of the government dedicated to misuse of magic! No patrolling wizards to enforce laws! 

  


Most importantly, no one in the Muggle government to regulate their behaviors. 

  


She grew more and more apprehensive about this whole magical world business. Really, why did they hide from everyone? Everyone knows that you only hide when you've got something to hide. She had no doubt in her mind that the entire magical world was up to something.

  


And she would not allow that something to happen.

  


At least, not to her.

  


She began to pull away from her sister at that point, making a point to avoid the ever-cheery girl on holidays and not speaking to her during the unavoidable collisions within their parent's home. She refused to listen to Lily's talk of the wizarding world, and found her relationship with her was thankfully becoming even more strained and terse. 

  


Petunia knew the further she pushed her sister away, the further she was pushing the wizarding world away. And that was the important thing. The farther away the magic was, the less contact she had with anyone who used magic, the less likely that she would be put under one of those terrible spells that she had no defense against. 

  


And so years passed.

  


Petunia completed her education, and married a man named Vernon who was very ambitious and looked to be successful. She knew he wasn't the most handsome man, nor was he the kindest or even romantic, but he would provide for her. Plus, she wasn't exactly the best prize he could have caught, either. She didn't invite Lily to her wedding. Her parents were present, but she knew that they were seeing her in her lovely white dress and imagining how beautiful Lily would be when she got married. 

  


She didn't need them anymore, though. She had Vernon to look after her. A few years later, an owl flew into her kitchen as she poured Vernon his morning tea. 

  


"What the hell is that?" he asked, staring at the bird that pecked at his toast.

  


"I believe it's an owl," she replied, hoping he wouldn't press the issue. He did. So she reluctantly told the story about her sister's letter, and how she was magic. A witch. The whole time, Petunia clutched the letter the owl had delivered in her bone thin hands, nervously twisting it.

  


Finally, the story was out, and Vernon stared at his cold tea. Petunia opened the letter, and let out a surprised "Oh!" as she read it.

  


"What?" Vernon demanded.

  


"Lily's getting married. To some fellow named James," Petunia replied. She couldn't recall her sister ever mentioning a man named James. "We're invited, but I don't believe we shall be free on that day."

  


Vernon nodded his approval of her plan, and opened the newspaper. 

  


Petunia threw the invitation away, and didn't think about it again until her mother mentioned something to her a few months later. 

  


"Petunia, dear, where were you?" 

  


"What?" Petunia replied, confused. Had she missed an important dinner with her parents?

  


"Lily's wedding! You were supposed to be there. Your sister was terribly disappointed."

  


Of course she was _disappointed._ Lily would care that her older sister hadn't made it to her wedding, after all, especially after said older sister hadn't bothered to invite her to her wedding. Petunia sniffed her nose disdainfully. It was just so _Lily_ to turn their mother against her like this. Miss one little event, and she was all over her. 

  


What else was there?

  


Lily was married too. Her husband, according to their mother, was just too sweet. Handsome, too. Her mother had never spoken about Vernon like that. No, she called Vernon, "That man Petunia married."

  


The worst part was that her mother knew what kind of man that James was. He was a wizard, yet was approved of more than Petunia's own hardworking husband. It made her positively sick. 

  


But now Petunia had something over her silly sister. She was pregnant. She would be the first to provide a grandchild for her parents. Her father would be so proud, and her mother would have to show her approval for once, also.

  


She went to her parents house to inform them of the joyous news.

  


A man with messy hair opened the door, and she just stared at him in confusion. 

  


"Who are you?" she demanded. This was her parent's house, and this man didn't seem like the type that her parents would choose to have in their home.

  


"James Potter," he replied with an easy grin. "You must be Petunia."

  


So this was the 'wonderful man' her sister had married. 

  


"Yes, I am," she replied, glancing around him. "Am I allowed to come in, or is this a private party?"

  


James stepped aside quickly, allowing her to enter. Petunia brushed past him, into the living room. Her mother was hugging her sister Lily, and crying. Her father was beaming. Lily, though a little pale, looked thrilled at the attention.

  


"Petunia! Dear! Your sister has the most wonderful news to share!" her mother exclaimed. 

  


Keeping her facial expression closely guarded, Petunia carefully asked what the wonderful news was.

  


"Lily's going to have a child!" exclaimed her mother. James wrapped his arm around Lily's waist, and they all turned to look at Petunia. She tried to come up with something to say, but nothing appropriate crossed her mind. A wave of nausea rose, and she bolted to the bathroom.

  


She saw her parent's puzzled expressions, and Lily's look of dawning realization as she re-entered the living room.

  


"Petunia, why did you decide to visit today?" her father asked pleasantly. 

  


Petunia fixed a smile on her face and replied, "No particular reason. Just missed you guys, I guess."

  


Her mother gushed on about that, and Petunia listened patiently before fleeing the house as soon as she could without looking rude. Lily was pregnant too. Lily got to their parents first. Now it would just look like she was copying Lily, never mind the fact that they had probably gotten pregnant near the same time.

  


"How did they like the news?" Vernon asked her as she entered the kitchen. She just scowled at him, and muttered something about Lily and a baby.

  


For the next several months, Petunia avoided her parent's home. She had called them a week or so after the fiasco with Lily's announcement, and told them why she had really come over that day. Her mother, while thrilled at the prospect of two grandchildren, was not as happy for Petunia as she had been for Lily. Petunia just knew it.

  


She decided that she would have a son, and that Lily would have a daughter, and then she would have to be the better child. Her father had wanted a son, after all, and if she was able to give him his only grandson, it would work out wonderfully.

  


Finally, in late June, while the sun bore down on the earth with pure malice, or so heavily pregnant Petunia thought, her water broke. 

  


It broke during breakfast, which really was a nice way to start out the morning. She had been cursing whoever thought up a nine month gestation for about half of those months by then, and that first pain had been a relief.

  


Unfortunately, the thrill of knowing she would give birth soon was soon replaced with the pain of being about to give birth. Luckily, her labor did not last as long as some of the women she had heard stories from ( 20 plus hours! Could you imagine?). She gave birth to a son in the early afternoon of June 22nd. He weighed in at just over nine pounds, and had a smattering of dark hair across his red wrinkly head. 

  


Petunia thought he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The nurses tutted their agreement as they cleaned him up and checked him out. Vernon was called in, and he held his firstborn son with a look of slight disgust and nervousness. 

  


"Is it supposed to look like that?" he asked immediately.

  


"He's beautiful! And of course he's supposed to look like that," Petunia huffed back, still a bit ill-tempered. Vernon, seeing the look of repressed violence in her eyes, hastily agreed, but handed the infant back to nurse rather quickly anyway. 

  


The next day, her parents came to visit her. She handed her son to her father, and watched with satisfaction as a proud smile crossed his face. 

  


"What's his name?" Her father asked. 

  


"Dudley," she replied. A look crossed his face briefly, but she didn't get a chance to ask what was wrong with her name for her son as Lily and James entered her room. 

  


Lily, looking as though she had swallowed a watermelon seed, headed over to peer at Dudley.

  


"Isn't he the cutest thing? Look at his chubby little cheeks!" Lily exclaimed, cooing over the child.

  


James looked at the baby, and a look quite similar to Vernon's initial expression upon seeing his son crossed his features. "Is it supposed to look that... scrunched?"

  


Lily smacked at her husband, and said, "Of course he is! He's an adorable little baby!"

  


Petunia scowled as her father handed the child to Lily, who held him somewhat awkwardly over her bulging stomach. She cooed and murmured to Dudley, and then handed him to Petunia.

  


"I can't wait to have mine," she said, rubbing her belly absently. James wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and asked, "Where's Vernon?"

  


"At work," Petunia replied. "He had a conference this morning."

  


"Oh," said Lily. Petunia didn't miss the look of disapproval in her eyes. Just because her husband actually had a job didn't make him a bad man, she thought, adjusting Dudley's blankets. James never seemed to be working, he was always with Lily. Petunia thought that would get to be a mite annoying after a while, but Lily didn't seem to mind. 

  


She wanted to ask her sister if she was carrying a boy or a girl, but refused to show any interest in it. She was sometimes just a bit too prideful, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything about it. If Lily wanted her to know, she would just tell her.

  


A month later, Lily gave birth to a boy whom she promptly named Harry.

  


Petunia couldn't believe the audacity of her sister. To name her son after their father, who had always wanted a boy, right after Petunia had given birth to their father's first grandson. Why hadn't Petunia thought of naming her son Harry? Why had it been Lily, who now looked like the perfect daughter in the eyes of their father?

  


Lily would probably go out and have a girl now, just so she could name it after their mother. Petunia for one wasn't planning on having another child. Her Dudley was difficult enough to tend to without adding another burden. Petunia didn't go to visit Lily after the birth of Harry, but Lily came over with her unnatural husband in tow, holding her son like he was the first baby anyone had ever had. Petunia shushed her sister as she reluctantly let them into her house, because she had just gotten Dudley to go to sleep.

  


Lily's brat immediately burst out into an ear-shattering wail that broke through the silence of the Dursley home. Almost immediately, the sound of Dudley's cries came drifting into the living room. Petunia excused herself, and went to get her son, muttering under her breath about how inconsiderate her sister was. 

  


The visit was stifled and uncomfortable even to Petunia. The two babies didn't seem to appreciate the other's presence as they continued to release ear-splitting wails for the duration of the visit. Lily attempted to make conversation, but Petunia could tell she was just fishing for complements. Lily was just dying for Petunia to admit that Harry was more adorable than Dudley, but Petunia refused to yield. Dudley was an adorable child, from his chubby cheeks to his round little feet.

  


Finally, Lily left, and Dudley immediately quieted down as Petunia waved at her sister from the front door. Lily turned and smiled, and called out, "See you at Christmas!"

  


Petunia didn't go to her parent's home that Christmas, and so that uncomfortable afternoon with the crying babies would be the last that she would ever see her sister. 

  


Lily wrote to her periodically, and Petunia even deigned to respond to the letters on two occasions, both of which she took pleasure in reporting her son's achievements, such as crawling and saying something that might be interpreted as 'cake'.

  


Months passed, Dudley grew, and Petunia was caught up in her world of mothering and being the perfect housewife. She pushed to the back of her mind all thoughts about her sister, brother-in-law, and nephew, just as she had before. Then, one morning, that all changed.

  


She opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, just like every other day. Unlike every other day, however, there was a baby sitting on the front step. 

  


She did the only logical thing and screamed. 

  


Then, she took a deep breath and actually looked at the child. It was familiar, somehow. She peered in closer, and realized there was a letter with the baby. She read it, and found out that yes, this child was familiar for a reason- it was her nephew.

  


Her sister was dead.

  


And those _people_ wanted her to raise her child.

  


Her! Raise Lily's baby! All because she had gotten herself killed from being involved in that nasty magic business.

  


Petunia grabbed up the baby, and took him inside, dumping him in Dudley's playpen. She then went into the kitchen, poured herself a cup of tea, and began to cry.

  


She had known that no good would come out of Lily going to that school. She had been right, too. Now Lily was dead. She was too young to have died! She was younger than Petunia was, and had always been more vibrant...

  


It didn't matter that she hadn't gotten along with Lily for most of her life. It mattered that Lily was no longer around to not get along with. 

  


She read the letter again, and realized that if she took the baby in she would be saving its life. She knew that Vernon would be upset, but she really couldn't make any other decision.

  


Harry had to stay there.

  


The years that followed were miserable. Petunia decided that she would have to forget that magic even existed, that it was not to be found out in the world, or she would never get anything done for fear of it. The spells her sister had told her about in their teenage years still haunted her, still terrified her.

  


The worst, in her view, were still the memory charms. The curses that killed and forced your will and caused outstanding pain were the worst in the wizarding world, but Petunia understood them. They were the same as guns and knives in the hands of crazy people. People did things unwillingly while a gun was pointed at their head just the same as wizards did things unwillingly with a wand pointed at theirs.

  


But no criminal could ever erase the memory of an event from her mind. Memories were sacred. They were all she had of her parents, who had died in a car crash, and her sister, loathed though she had been. The removal of memories was the worst sort of rape she could imagine.

  


Wizards were _wrong_, she knew this. 

  


And she believed it with all her heart.

  


Just as the sun shone, as the grass grew, as the moon waned were natural functions of the universe, magic was unnatural and wrong. The magic world was a deformed fetus in a room filled with perfect, healthy babes. It clung to life, despite the fact it was doomed, and outnumbered, and outdated. She only hoped it would die soon. That it would fade into the night, and everything would be pleasant and happy. 

  


Nothing would ever convince her otherwise. She believed, and that was that.

  


**

  
  



End file.
